A Home at Last
by Mulderette
Summary: Callen's life changes when Hetty takes him into her home. (Continuation of the flashback scene from Rage) Note that Chapter 5 introduces a certain villain from "The Game." :)
1. Chapter 1

_So, I always liked the flashback scene at the end of Rage when Hetty and Callen first met, but this weekend, when I watched it again, it made me want to continue with it in some way. I'm not expecting this to be anything too long or complicated. We'll just see how it goes and if anyone is even interested in reading it. For those of you who do, thanks so much_

xxxxx

Callen sat silently, hunched against the door of Hetty's car. "Do you have anything we need to pick up?" Hetty asked, looking at the boy kindly.

Callen shook his head quickly. "No."

"Surely there's something," Hetty prodded.

"Just some crappy clothes. If you want to get them, go ahead. They kept all my belongings in Juvie. Ain't worth it to have good stuff. People just steal it anyways."

"Isn't."

"Isn't what?" Callen asked, focusing his eyes on the tiny woman driving a car that was nicer than any he'd ever ridden in…or driven.

"It isn't worth it to have good stuff. You should speak well, Mr. Callen. Appearances are important, how a person looks and speaks. They can change people's entire impressions of you."

Callen shrugged. "Whatever."

"In any case, we will go shopping tomorrow for some clothes and whatever else you may need."

"Don't you just have stuff from the other kids you can let me wear?" Callen asked. He truly had never met anyone like this odd little woman.

"There are no other kids," Hetty explained to him. "It's only you and I, and of course the staff."

There was a staff? Callen wondered what kind of an organization this place was. He was starting to grow even more wary about what this newest chapter in his life might be. Then again, it had to be better than juvenile hall and hopefully better than most of the foster homes he'd been placed in. As Hetty pulled the car onto the long driveway leading to Dovecote, Callen's blue eyes widened in astonishment. "What is this place?" he asked, unable to hide the awe in his voice.

"This is my home," Hetty replied. "And your home now too if you would like it to be."

A tiny smirk broke through Callen's seriousness but he quickly erased it from his face. "You live here all alone?"

"As I told you, I have a household staff. It would be a lot for me to take care of this place all by myself. There is also Security to watch the house and the grounds."

"You must be pretty rich," Callen commented.

Hetty smiled at the boy's bluntness. "I'm very comfortable," she told him.

Callen started to wonder about what the price would be to live in such a house. Maybe he was expected to be a servant? He supposed it wouldn't be that bad. He wasn't afraid of hard work, especially if there wasn't a beating at the end of the day.

"Come along, Mr. Callen," Hetty said after she had parked the car. "We have time for me to give you a brief tour of the house before dinner." She led him to the front door and they entered the house. Callen's mouth hung open in amazement when he got his first look at what was to be his new home.

"Why does such a little lady need such a big house?" he wondered aloud after a long silence.

Hetty chuckled. The boy certainly didn't hold back when it came to speaking what was on his mind. "I enjoy living here. I'm hopeful that you will come to feel the same way with time."

Callen looked at her doubtfully. No matter what she said about him living here, he'd heard it all before. He had no doubt that as soon as she got sick of him or he did something against the rules, he'd be out the door.

Hetty led Callen through the rooms of the first floor. He took in all the artwork and collectibles and began to think this woman was even richer than he had first thought. He'd never stayed in a house with so many things. He didn't say anything though. He just took in everything silently as he wondered about his new life. Hetty then led him to the front staircase and they started upstairs to the second floor. "This will be your bedroom," Hetty said as she opened the door to a room with hardwood floors and white walls. It was simple with a queen-sized bed, a nightstand and a dresser. There were a few framed seascapes on the walls. Callen went over to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress and bounced lightly, testing it out. The bed felt amazing, not to mention the size of it. It was huge. He couldn't believe he'd have it all to himself. A lot of the homes he'd been in, he'd just wrapped up in a blanket and slept on the floor. Either the older kids had forced him out of his bed or else the mattresses had been just too uncomfortable. "Think about what kinds of things you'd like to make it more comfortable for you."

Callen gave Hetty a blank look as he glanced at the bed. There were four fluffy pillows and a comforter. In the past he had considered himself lucky to have one flat pillow and a threadbare blanket. Finally, he spoke when it seemed like she was waiting for him to say something. "It looks like a real comfortable bed…I don't think I need anything else."

"Well, I wasn't necessarily speaking about the bed," Hetty said, "but more about the room itself. For example, maybe some posters of sports teams that you like. Do you read? We could get you a bookcase and maybe go buy some books for you. Things like that."

"I do like to read," Callen said. For the first time Hetty saw a light in the boy's eyes and it made her happy. She wanted to see if she could make that light appear more often. Maybe she could finally bring some well-deserved happiness into young Mr. Callen's life.

xxxxx

After she had shown Callen his bedroom as well as where her own room was up on the second floor, Hetty led him downstairs to a room she hadn't shown him before on her tour. Now that she realized the boy had a liking for reading though, she thought he'd like this room very much. "In here, is the library," she said as she opened one of the double doors.

"Wow…" Callen said as he stared up at the tall floor-to-ceiling bookcases which lined the walls. There were two overstuffed recliners, a desk and a small sofa. Callen walked over to one of the bookshelves and reached for a book before he stopped himself and looked at Hetty questioningly. "Is it okay?"

Hetty nodded, a pleased smile on her face. "Of course, you can feel free to read any book in here, as many as you'd like." Callen smiled as he took the book out and felt the soft leather cover then carefully put it back. He loved books. He'd discovered at a very young age that they provided a means of escape from the troubles of his daily life. He could go into other worlds and for a little while pretend that he lived in other places with people who actually cared about him.

"Why don't you stay in here for a bit and see if there's anything you'd like. It's fine to take the books to your room. I'm going to go see about dinner."

Callen nodded, not even really paying attention as Hetty left him alone. He was already focused on the wealth of books contained in the room.

xxxxx

When Hetty returned, about a half hour later, she found her young charge sitting in one of the recliners, one book open in his lap and another small stack on the side table beside him. "Did anything catch your fancy?" Hetty asked.

Callen silently held up the book he was reading. "Catcher in the Rye…interesting choice," Hetty commented with a smile. "But for now, it's dinner time. You can leave the books here for now and after dinner take them to your room or read them here, whatever you'd prefer."

Callen got up and followed Hetty out into the kitchen. He was relieved that they weren't having dinner in the large formal dining room he had seen earlier. That would have just been weird.

"Should I do something?" Callen asked awkwardly as he watched Hetty take a pan out of the oven.

"No, that's okay, dear. Just sit down," Hetty told him. She put a piece of chicken on his plate and then brought over a bowlful of mashed potatoes and green beans and set them on the table. Callen politely waited until she had seated and served herself before he took some potatoes and green beans for himself. It seemed like a lot for just two people. At many of the foster homes he'd been in, he'd never felt like he had enough to eat. Some nights he had gone to bed still hungry, with his stomach growling.

"This is good," the boy said as he ate, for lack of anything better to say. He wasn't sure what was expected of him regarding chores or things as simple as being allowed to talk at the table. He didn't really trust what was happening to him and a large part of him was tensely waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm glad you like it," Hetty said. "I cook sometimes, but a lot of nights I have a cook here. Her name is Molly. I'll introduce you to her on Monday and you can give her an idea of what kinds of foods you like. I won't promise you'll have your favorite things every night, but I'm not going to make you eat foods you hate either."

"You're not?" That was different. Most places he'd been in, he'd had no choice at all regarding what to eat and he'd be punished if he complained.

"No, I don't believe in forcing children to eat foods that they don't like," Hetty stated. She put her fork down and gazed at the boy until he seemed uncomfortable with the attention. "This isn't going to be like the other homes you've been in, Mr. Callen. I'd like very much for us to get along. Now of course there will be rules to follow and we'll have things we need to discuss, but I'm hoping very much that you will be happy here."

"So…" Callen began, then hesitated.

"Out with it," Hetty said to him. "Come now, don't be shy."

"I don't know what to call you," Callen finally said.

"What?" Hetty looked confused for a brief moment and then she laughed. "I can't believe I didn't introduce myself to you. My name is Henrietta Lange. You can just call me Hetty if you'd like."

"Hetty," Callen repeated with a slight nod of his head. He then went back to his meal, but now he was wondering what kind of rules Hetty was talking about and how she would go about enforcing those rules. He hoped it didn't involve those security guys she had mentioned. If they were anything like the guys at juvenile hall, he could be in trouble.

xxxxx

Callen slept well, at least for him. He woke at around 2 a.m. and considered exploring the house on his own, but then decided against that. He wondered what the following day would hold. He was pretty sure the rules and stuff conversation would be happening at some point over the weekend and wondered just how bad it was going to be. Finally, he was able to put his troublesome thoughts aside and fell back to sleep.

"Good morning, Mr. Callen," Hetty greeted him as he made his way into the kitchen. She then eyed his dirty sweatshirt with the words South Gate Juvenile Detention Center on it. "We definitely need to get you some clothes today. That shirt has to go."

Callen looked down at the shirt and privately agreed with her. He needed no reminders of the three weeks he'd spent in Juvie.

"I like to cook breakfast on weekends," Hetty said as she bustled around the kitchen. "I don't really have time for that during the week though. You'll have to let me know what kinds of things you like or better yet, we'll stop at a supermarket later on and you can pick out some things you like to eat."

"Yeah?" Callen listened to her with interest. This was definitely new. He couldn't ever recall going to a supermarket and picking out food he liked although he wondered if his choices would be somewhat limited. "I can get whatever I want?"

Hetty chuckled. "Anything within reason. I'm not going to endorse ice cream for breakfast."

Callen smiled as he watched her. "Can I do anything?" he finally asked, deciding it wouldn't hurt to make a good impression.

"You can set the table if you'd like," Hetty told him. She told him where the dishes and utensils were and he quickly and efficiently set to work on his task. She smiled to herself as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. She was impressed with how he was obviously trying to be helpful. She knew he was rough around the edges and there would be problems along the way, but she was pretty sure he wasn't the horror story everyone seemed to think he was. In any case, she was not one to back down from a challenge.

xxxxx

"You're a good cook," Callen stated, after he finished his breakfast of bacon, eggs, home fries and toast of which he had put away quite a lot for a boy his size. It made Hetty sad to think that he had been deprived of food in the past. That was one thing he was never going to have to worry about, as long as he remained with her.

"So, before we head out today, I thought we should have a little talk," Hetty began, her eyes serious as she looked at Callen.

He immediately felt himself tense. 'Here it comes,' he thought to himself. He fully anticipated that everything was about to change.

"First thing we need to talk about is school."

Callen was unable to hold back a half-hearted sigh. School wasn't his favorite topic, not by a long shot.

"Would you prefer public or a private school?"

"Private school? With uniforms and ties?" His blue eyes widened and his expression grew increasingly horrified just at the thought of it. He would never fit in at a school like that.

Hetty chuckled. "Alright, public school it is then. There's a high school not too far from here with a very good reputation, grades nine through 12. You're currently in the ninth grade?"

Callen nodded. He didn't really want to go to school, but he knew there was no real way out of that.

"Okay then, I think we should get going. We have a lot to do today."

"Should I clear the table?" he asked as he got to his feet.

"That would be very nice, Mr. Callen," Hetty said to him. "Very nice indeed."

xxxxx

"Why do I need a suit?" Callen had been trying hard not to complain as he tried on pants and shirts, seemingly by the dozens, but a suit? That was just too much.

"You never know when the occasion will arise that you need to wear one," Hetty stated practically.

Callen sighed as he glared at the salesman with the measuring tape. "No one I knows wears suits," he grumbled.

"I'm afraid this point is nonnegotiable," Hetty said. "You need to have one good suit, just in case."

"Just in case what, I die?" Callen asked. "You can bury me in a garbage bag. I'll be dead. I won't care."

The salesman chuckled and Hetty had to hold back a smile. "Well let's hope that doesn't happen, but if it does, I assure you that I would care."

Finally, after what seemed an unbearably long time to Callen, they left the store with an order placed for not one, but two new suits. He'd finally given up on complaining, realizing that Hetty wasn't going to change her mind. If he whined any further, he'd probably end up wearing suits to school so he kept his mouth shut, although it wasn't easy.

"Now…how about a new jacket?" Hetty asked as they moved onto the next store.

"Okay…sure," Callen said. He had to admit, she'd been good about letting him pick out what he liked and he'd never really had a decent jacket before. When he'd been lucky enough to have one, they were old with stains or holes in them. He looked them over carefully and finally picked out a light blue denim jacket which he really liked. Hetty insisted that he get another one and he chose a plain black one, as well. He'd never imagined having so many clothes before, all for him and all brand new.

"Thank you for buying me all these things," he said quietly when they had returned to the car. "It was really nice of you."

"Well, you do need clothes," Hetty said. "They're more of a necessity than a luxury."

"Even two suits?" he asked, a tiny smirk on his lips.

"Don't be cheeky, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "Trust me, the time may come when you actually like wearing a suit. A suit can command respect and admiration."

"Well, at least we're done now," Callen said. He'd gone to thrift stores in the past, but had never done shopping like this before. Now he had countless clothing items, including new socks, underwear, t-shirts and enough shirts, pants and jeans to wear something different every day for close to two weeks.

"Oh we're not done yet," Hetty corrected him. "We still have more shopping to do, but now we will look for things you may like better than just buying clothes."

Callen studied Hetty, as he tried to figure her out. She sure didn't talk or act like anyone else he'd ever stayed with or even come in contact with before. One thing he knew for sure, it was definitely going to be interesting living with her.


	2. Chapter 2

_I was very pleasantly surprised at the nice response I got to the first chapter of this story. It was very unexpected. I very much appreciate all the kind reviews and comments :)_

xxxxx

After a brief lunch break at a local cafe, their next stop was at a large local department store called Sherman's. Hetty got out of the car and Callen followed along behind her. He'd never been in this store before and he wondered what she was going to buy now. He had never been on such a shopping spree either. He'd never known anyone who could have afforded to do so. Hetty's house was filled with more things than he had ever seen except when on a field trip at a museum and it seemed like she could always buy even more things. It was kind of amazing.

They walked into the store and Hetty got a cart, then they started walking through the aisles. The first stop she made was in the furniture department. "Do you see anything you like?" she asked him as she stopped at the bookcases.

Callen looked at her with a bit of confusion on his face. "But…you already have a whole library full of books and bookcases…"

"Well this would be for your bedroom. I don't have any more modern books geared towards boys. I thought you might want to get some just for you since you like to read. Additionally, any books you take to your room from the library you could keep in the bookcase in your room."

"You don't have to do that though," he said. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with this woman he didn't even know buying him so many things. He wondered what it might mean in term of future obligations.

"I know I don't have to, Mr. Callen. I want to," Hetty explained. "Now please, pick one."

Callen gave her a wary look then turned to the bookcases again. Finally, he pointed to a medium sized one with dark brown wood. "I think that matches the other things in the room," he said.

"You have a good eye," Hetty said. "It exactly matches the other pieces." Hetty arranged to have the bookcase delivered to Dovecote and then they moved on. "If you could have one material thing," Hetty said as they walked, "what would it be? Perhaps something you've always wanted but never been able to have?" She knew he basically had nothing. She couldn't begin to imagine what his birthdays and holidays had been like growing up as he had.

"I don't know," Callen said, shrugging. No one had ever asked him a question like that before. He had no idea how to answer it.

"Surely there's something," Hetty urged. "A stereo perhaps, your own television?"

Callen pushed his hair away from his eyes and studied her as she walked. He felt like he had won some kind of prize, but he still didn't trust that it was really his. He thought there could be a price for whatever he took from her or that it could all be taken away from him. Finally, against his better judgement, he told her. "A bicycle."

"A bicycle?" Hetty asked. For some reason his answer surprised her, but she had no idea why. It made sense. A bicycle would give him a sense of freedom and perhaps curb any desire he might have to be joyriding in cars before he was even old enough for a license. "Let me think about that. For now, let's see what else is in this store."

Callen ended up with a Sony Discman, some CDs and some books to start his collection before they left the store. He'd never had so much for his very own before and he was more than a little bit shell shocked over all that had transpired in the past 24 hours. His life had taken a whole 180 degree turn.

The next stop was the grocery store and by this time Callen was feeling tired and overwhelmed by the events of the day. He picked out a few things including chocolate chip ice cream, but mostly just agreed with whatever Hetty picked unless he actually despised something. Realizing the boy was tired, Hetty finished up quickly and they finally made their way back to Dovecote.

xxxxx

"So…I just want to say thank you very much for everything," Callen said shyly after all the groceries had been put away.

"You're very welcome. I'm just trying to get you settled in and off to a proper start. As I told you yesterday, I want you to be happy here, Mr. Callen," Hetty said with a smile.

He wanted to say that didn't mean she had to buy him stuff, but he didn't want to make her mad so he just nodded.

"Why don't you go up to your room and put your new things away," Hetty suggested, thinking he might want a little time to himself. "I'll call you when it's time for dinner, okay?"

"Okay." Callen nodded again and went to the living room where everything was. He then made a few trips up and down the stairs to bring all his new things up to his bedroom. After that, the first thing he did was rip off his grubby juvenile hall sweatshirt and throw it into the trash bucket. He never wanted to set eyes on that again.

xxxxx

Callen was lying on his bed reading and listening to his new Discman when Hetty knocked on his door. However, the volume of the CD player was loud and he didn't hear the knock. Finally, after a few more attempts at knocking and calling for the boy, Hetty entered the room cautiously. Callen jumped when he saw her and ripped the headphones off his head as he sat up. There was a distinct look of fear in his eyes which he quickly managed to disguise.

"I'm sorry," Hetty said, momentarily stunned by the look she had seen on his face. "I knocked and called for you several times, but you didn't hear me."

"I'm the one who's sorry," Callen mumbled. "I guess I had the music on too loud."

"Well, I'm glad you like it," Hetty said. "In any case, I came up to tell you that dinner is ready. Then, after dinner, I think it's time for us to finish our little talk."

Callen bit his lower lip nervously as he followed Hetty back downstairs. In his experience, talks with adults almost never went well.

xxxxx

"Aren't you hungry?" Hetty asked, looking at Callen curiously. She had deliberately made cheeseburgers and fries, thinking he would like them, but he was picking at the burger and had barely touched the fries.

"I guess I'm still full from lunch," Callen replied, staring down at his plate.

"Lunch was quite a long time ago," Hetty said. "I would have thought you'd be hungry by now."

Callen just shrugged. "I guess I'm not."

"All right…then why don't you clear the table," Hetty said. "I'm not going to force you to eat. When you're done, you can come out to the living room and we'll talk."

Callen watched as she left the room and then very slowly began bringing the dishes and utensils over to the sink, one by one. He rinsed each item until it was perfectly clean and then put them into the dishwasher. After dragging the task out as long as he possibly could, he headed out into the living room.

"I was beginning to think you had ground yourself up in the garbage disposal," Hetty said with a slight chuckle.

"I just wanted to make sure I did it right," he said, standing in front of her, looking very much like a prisoner about to be sentenced by a judge.

"I'm sure you did just fine," Hetty said, smiling kindly at him. He didn't return her smile though.

"Oh come now, Mr. Callen," Hetty said, shaking her head. "Trust me, this isn't going to be that bad. Now sit down here next to me and stop looking like the world is about to come to an end."

Callen did as she requested but he didn't crack a smile or look even the slightest bit at ease.

Hetty sighed, but decided to just go on. Hopefully, the boy would loosen up a bit. "The first thing I'd like to discuss is chores, one of which you did tonight. I'd like you to clear the table every night and put everything into the dishwasher."

"Okay," he replied. That wasn't so bad.

"Each morning, before you come downstairs, I'd like you to make your bed." She hesitated, giving him a wondering look. "I take it you know how to do that?"

"Of course, I do," he said. "I'm not a baby."

"I was not implying that you were," Hetty said. "You will also clear any breakfast dishes that you use and bring them to the sink. Whether or not you have time to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher we will have to see. There are a lot of days that I won't be with you in the morning. Sometimes I need to go to work very early in the day. Are you able to get up on your own? I'll get you an alarm clock."

"Of course I can get up on my own," the boy scoffed. "If you don't get up on your own, you could get a whipp…" He stopped himself, looking momentarily nervous. "I always get up on my own."

"That's very good," Hetty said, concerned by what he had been about to say. She needed to delve more fully into his records. She strongly suspected that she didn't know everything that had gone on in young Mr. Callen's life.

"Some days I may ask you for help with the gardening, which I expect you to do without complaint."

Callen didn't look particularly thrilled about that, but he said nothing.

"As you're aware of, you have your own bathroom which I expect you to keep clean and tidy. The same goes for your bedroom. You have a hamper. Please use it. I don't expect to come into your room and find dirty clothes all over the floor."

Callen looked a bit insulted by this latest chore. "I never throw my clothes on the floor," he told her.

"Very good. Then I expect we'll get along just fine."

"Is that all?" he asked with a heavy sigh.

"No, not quite." Hetty was amused by the look on his face, as if he had all the burdens of the world on his small shoulders. "Now we need to discuss some rules."

He narrowed his eyes as he waited. This was where things always went bad.

"First of all, I expect you to ask me about any plans you may make for after school. You're not just going to be gallivanting around on your own."

"Gallivanting?" he asked, giving her a confused look.

"Running around on your own or with friends, doing God knows what, without letting me know where you are or who you're with."

"Fine." That wasn't likely to be a problem. He usually never made friends anywhere or if he did, the friendships never lasted long.

"Homework is a priority. I expect it to be done in a timely manner. No staying up until all hours getting it done. If you have no after school plans, my advice would be to do it straight away when you get home. Also, bedtime is to be strictly observed. 10 o'clock on school nights. Later on weekends or if there is some special occasion which will be discussed on a case by case basis. In addition, there is to be no hooliganism."

"Hooliganism?" Callen couldn't help it. He burst into laughter. "You think I'm a hooligan? Why did you even want me here if that's what you think?"

"No, I do not think you're a hooligan, but I don't expect you to turn into one either. I don't want you hanging around with undesirables, Mr. Callen. Nor do I want you fighting as I've seen has been an issue for you in the past. If you have a problem, please come to me about it and we'll work out a suitable solution together."

"It doesn't always work that way," Callen muttered.

"No, perhaps not," Hetty agreed, "but it's the way I would prefer things go if at all possible."

"Fine, no…hooliganism." He gnawed on his lower lip, trying not to laugh again.

"And regarding my cars…"

Callen's eyes lit up at that. "Cars?" he asked. "Like more than one? How many do you have? What kinds are they?"

"The cars are kept in a large garage on the property. You are prohibited from them, Mr. Callen. You are not old enough to drive, no matter what your past history tells us. When you have reached the appropriate age, and I have deemed you responsible enough to do so, you will take a driver's education class and we will move forward from there. I feel very strongly about this. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said, shifting uncomfortably. Was she ever going to stop talking?

"I think that's all for now," Hetty said, looking at him thoughtfully. "Now do you have anything to say to me or any questions I can answer?"

"What's your job?"

"Hmm…the best way I can describe it is I'm a jack of all trades. I work in an office although sometimes I do travel. When that happens, there will be someone here for you. It doesn't happen often though, not anymore. I do many different things."

"Oh…" That basically didn't tell him much but he decided not to ask anymore. He wanted to ask if she had thought any more about a bicycle, but he assumed she had decided he couldn't have one. Not that he had a right to complain. She had bought him more than he'd ever had in his life.

"I guess that's all then," he said. "Oh yeah, when do I start school?"

"Monday," Hetty answered. I made sure to take the morning off so I can take you there myself.

Callen couldn't help the feeling of dread that came over him at the thought of school. He had started so many different schools in the past. He'd lost count years ago of how many that had been. They were never really very good experiences. He didn't expect this one to be any different.

"Why don't you fix yourself a snack and head up to your room to read, unless you'd like to watch some television with me," Hetty said to him. He looked a little bit overwhelmed and she couldn't really blame him, but she wanted to keep him out of trouble if she could.

Callen looked at the large console television set and he almost said yes, but he wasn't ready to sit here watching television with Hetty. He barely knew her and he just wanted some time to himself at the moment. "I think I'll have some ice cream and go upstairs, if that's okay."

"That's fine, Mr. Callen. I'll be up a little later to say goodnight."

"Okay, thank you…" He then gave her a shy smile and headed out into the kitchen before going back up to his room.


	3. Chapter 3

_I feel like I'm always apologizing for the long waits for chapters in my stories, but some new health concerns have come up for me and I'm definitely not writing like I used to. I still love it, but feel out of practice and the words just aren't coming as easily. In any case, thanks for your patience and I hope you like this chapter._

xxxxx

Sunday was a quiet day. Callen mostly kept to himself except for helping Hetty out in the garden for an hour or so, which he had to admit, wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. It was a nice day and it was good to spend some time outdoors. After the gardening, he took a walk around the grounds by himself. The amount of land Hetty owned was impressive, but what really intrigued him was the size of the garage which housed her automobile collection. It was locked up tight and although he knew he could have gotten in pretty easily, he wasn't quite ready to test his luck in that way. So far, this was the best place he had been in since he had lived with the Rostoffs and he wasn't prepared to give it up. Although Hetty had said he could stay there for as long as he liked, he really didn't trust that and knew if he screwed up, that he would be sent packing.

Hetty watched Callen from the window of her sitting room as he circled the garage twice. She was more than a little curious as to what he had planned, but she breathed a sigh of relief when he turned away from it and headed back towards the house. For a boy who had stolen cars in the past, she knew the temptation was a great one, but she was pleased that he hadn't given in to it...at least not yet.

xxxxx

Callen didn't sleep well on Sunday night. He hated started new schools with the cliques and bullies and the way certain groups of kids looked down on other groups. He preferred to keep to himself, but it didn't always work out that way. He rarely made friends and even when he had, he'd been onto another school in the blink of an eye. He thought about feigning an illness in the morning, but he knew that Hetty would see right through him. Finally, after tossing and turning for hours, he fell into a troubled sleep.

xxxxx

Hetty rapped soundly on Callen's door at 6:45 a.m. on Monday morning. "Mr. Callen? Rise and shine. We don't want to be late. Mr. Callen? Can I come in?"

"Come in," came Callen's voice from behind the door.

Hetty opened the door and walked into Callen's room. She was surprised to see Callen sitting on the edge of his perfectly made bed. He was dressed in blue jeans and a blue and white striped shirt. His denim jacket was draped over his lap and his new backpack was beside him on the bed. He appeared to be ready to face the day. Everything seemed in place except the look on the boy's face. He didn't look at all happy, not to mention, the telltale dark circles under his eyes which indicated very little sleep. She was almost tempted to let him stay home from school and do something special with him, just the two of them, but she knew that in the long run, it was only postponing the inevitable. He had to go to school. "I'm impressed, Mr. Callen. Bed made and here you are, already dressed and ready to go. I'm glad to see you so eager to start your day."

Callen gave Hetty an incredulous look, but didn't say anything.

"We have a bit of extra time. I can cook you whatever you'd like for breakfast."

"I'm not all that hungry," Callen replied.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I'm certainly not letting you go to school on an empty stomach. Are you feeling alright?"

Callen met her eyes, tempted to lie, but in the end, he didn't. "I'm fine," he said as he picked up his backpack from the bed and slung it over his shoulder.

"Good, good," Hetty said, nodding approvingly. "Then come along, there has to be something you want for breakfast, even if it is one of those sugary cereals that aren't good for you."

Callen followed Hetty to the kitchen and in the end he was able to put away a decent amount of bacon, eggs and toast before they headed out of the house to start the next new chapter in his life.

xxxxx

"This is supposed to be a very good school, Mr. Callen," Hetty said as they drove the short distance to the high school. "Perhaps you'll be surprised."

Callen shrugged as he stared out the window. "I've never been in one school very long anyway."

"Well, I believe things will be very different here," Hetty said. "Unless, of course, you decide you'd prefer a private school."

"That's not gonna happen," Callen said, rolling his eyes.

Hetty then pulled the car into a spot directly in front of the building and got out of the vehicle. She then stood patiently waiting for Callen who was dragging his feet and making no attempt to hide his reluctance at heading into the school. It was a large, modern high school and Hetty had a feeling he'd do well there, if he gave it half a chance. Finally, he came up beside her and the two walked up the stairs to the entrance of the high school.

xxxxx

Once inside the admissions office, Callen stood nervously shuffling his feet as Hetty filled out the numerous forms necessary for his entrance into the school. She had to question Callen often about information that she didn't know and there were things he didn't know either. In the end, between the two of them, they managed to get most of the questions answered sufficiently. Hetty then brought the forms over to the woman behind the front desk. "All set?" the woman asked with a smile. She began to glance through the forms, but looked back at Hetty almost immediately. "We do need to have his first name, school policy."

"G _ **is**_ my first name," Callen spoke up, quickly aggravated by the question. It was the same old thing, every school he went to.

"I assure you, that's all the information we have about his name," Hetty said, giving the woman a reassuring smile. "You can check with the boy's previous schools. You'll find it's the same for each of them."

"Well, fine then," the woman said with a clipped tone as she proceeded to go through the rest of the forms. She didn't question them about any of the other missing information though and after a few more minutes, she handed Callen his class schedule. "You're too late for morning homeroom, but you will be in time for your first period class, History with Mr. Teegan. Room 112, take a right when you leave the office, then go down the hall and take your next right."

"Thanks," Callen muttered and he quickly turned and left the office, already wishing he was old enough to just leave school and get a job. He knew he could work, but getting someone to hire him was the trick.

"I will be here at 3 p.m. sharp to pick you up," Hetty said, smiling at him. She was highly tempted to give him a hug, but knew he would balk at such a gesture.

"I can walk home. It's not that far."

"Perhaps another day, but for today, I will be here at 3. Now try to have a good day, Mr. Callen. I highly doubt that things will be as bad as you anticipate." She watched as he headed down the hall and then disappeared from her sight. She really hoped that her words would prove to be true.

xxxxx

Callen reached the room just as the bell rang. The room was empty except for a man who appeared to be in his late twenties with longish brown hair and a beard. The teacher gave him a curious look. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I'm a new student. This is my first day." Callen handed the teacher one of his forms he needed to pass on to each teacher then stood by his desk awkwardly.

"I'm Mr. Teegan," the teacher said after briefly looking at the form. "What would you prefer I call you?"

Callen smiled briefly at this unexpected offer. He usually had no choice in the matter. "I'd prefer to just be called Callen."

"Callen it is then," Mr. Teegan said. He got up from his seat and went over to a bookcase at the side of the room and pulled out a textbook. "This is the book we're using this year. We're just starting a section on American History so you don't have anything you need to catch up on." He then eyed the desks in the classroom, looked back at Callen and put the book on a desk near the back of the room. "You can sit here. It will give you a good view of the lay of the land"

Callen again smiled at the teacher, already liking him. He then sat down and watched as the other students began to straggle into the room. Except for curious glances in his direction, no one really struck him as being particularly hostile. When everyone was seated. Mr. Teegan began to speak. "I hope you all had a nice weekend. As I'm sure you've noticed, we have a new student in our midst. This is Callen. I hope you all will make him feel welcome." He then went on to start the lesson and Callen breathed a sigh of relief, happy that he hadn't been the focus of a large amount of attention.

The next two classes were English and Science, both of which went in a similar fashion to the first. The teachers were pleasant enough and it wasn't until Geometry that he ran into a problem. Not a particular fan of math, Callen was already apprehensive when he walked into the classroom. The teacher was a middle aged woman with permed reddish hair and glasses. She grabbed the paper from Callen when he offered it to her then looked at him sternly. "What does the G stand for?"

"It's just G… ma'am," Callen answered. The class behind him was completely silent and he could feel their eyes burning a hole in his back. He really couldn't stand the way some adults acted. When he was grown, he would never treat kids the way he was treated.

"It cannot be just G. My name is Penelope Higgins, but you will call me Mrs. Higgins. So what is your full first name?"

Callen shrugged. He found it hard to believe that this woman was married. He felt bad for the poor bastard who had fallen into her web. "It really is G. You can call me Callen…the other teachers are going to…"

"I don't care what the other teachers do," she snapped. "Some of them are not fit to teach. I prefer things to be done properly or not at all. Now, since you refused to give me a proper first name, I shall come up with one for you. I shall call you Glenn."

For a moment, Callen looked appalled, but then he began to grow angry. "I'm not going to answer to that name."

"You will do as I stay or go speak to the principal."

"Fine, I'll speak to the principal," Callen retorted, glaring at her. Anything to get him out of this class was fine with him. He then turned his back and walked out of the room, ignoring all the stares of the students and Mrs. Higgins' shocked expression.

xxxxx

Callen sat in the small waiting area outside the principal's office. He wondered if they were going to tell Hetty about what had happened. He didn't care if they did. He wasn't going to let some horrendous old biddie call him some made up name, especially Glenn. He didn't know what the G stood for, but he knew it wasn't that for sure.

"Mr. Callen? Mr. McGregor will see you now," the secretary smiled pleasantly at him as he stood up and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Mr. McGregor called and Callen headed into the office with a feeling of foreboding. It wasn't even lunchtime yet and he was already in trouble. He entered the office and found a thin, middle aged man with thinning hair and glasses seated behind his desk. "Take a seat, Mr. Callen." Once Callen was seated, Mr. McGregor looked at him speculatively. "Now tell me, what brings you to my office on your very first day of classes?"

"Mrs. Higgins told me to come here," Callen answered sullenly. He started to wonder if Hetty was going to kick him out over this. Oh well, he ought to have known it was too good to last. At least he hadn't had enough time to get used to his new life. Maybe Hetty would let him take a book or two when he left.

"And why would she do that?"

"Because she was mad that I don't have a first name."

Mr. McGregor gave Callen a look of surprise. "So... what did you want her to call you?"

"Callen, sir. The other teachers so far are going to, but she just got all mad when I told her. She wanted to call me Glenn and I'm sorry, but no one is going to call me Glenn. So, when I refused, she told me to come here and now here I am."

"I see," Mr. McGregor bit back a smile. "Well, this issue is easily resolved. "I shall tell Mrs. Higgins, as well as your other teachers, that you are to be called Callen. Does that work for you?"

"Yes…" Callen was more than a little surprised at how well this was working out and was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I called to have some of your records transferred to us first thing this morning. I also talked to Ms. Lange. She told me that you've had a history of being thrown from one place to another without having the chance to really settle into anywhere. She wants to give you that chance now and I would also. Now, a word of warning about Mrs. Higgins. She's a very good teacher, but she's old school, very set in her ways. If you have any more trouble with her or any other teacher, please come and see me and we'll try to work it out together."

"Okay," said Callen. He realized that he was being let off the hook and wondered if he might be able to push his luck a little bit further. "I don't suppose there's a different teacher I could take math with?"

Mr. McGregor chuckled. "Sorry, Callen. This was the best schedule we could come up with you at this time. Don't worry. If you treat Mrs. Higgins respectfully, you might find she's not as awful as you think. Now, I see that you have lunch in a few minutes. I'll speak to Mrs. Higgins and the rest of your teachers. I don't think you need to worry about this kind of an issue coming up again."

"Thank you, sir," Callen said.

"You're welcome," Mr. McGregor said. "The cafeteria is in the basement. Why don't you head down there a little bit early and take a look around. Get yourself some food before the masses descend on the place."

Callen nodded and left the office, glad to be able to put this episode behind him. Now for the next problem, lunch. From past experience, this was another thing that didn't tend to go particularly well for him.


	4. Chapter 4

_This story is so different than my other Callen stories lol. Thanks so much to those of you who have been reading and commenting. I really do appreciate it._

xxxxx

Callen walked down to the cafeteria and bought himself lunch which luckily, for that day, happened to be pizza. He took his tray and went over to the far corner of the room where he could sit with his back to the wall and get a view of all that was going on. At least he would be protected from anyone coming up behind him. In his past experience, this was a very important detail, one that he had never let himself forget after one or two incidents where he had been victimized by older, stronger kids.

The bell rang and the cafeteria was soon filled with chattering kids who were either buying their lunches or had brought bagged lunches from home. Callen wondered if that might be a better option for him. The pizza was okay but definitely not the same as a pizzeria. He had seen the menu for the week posted on the wall and except for the pizza and Friday's grilled cheese option, the other daily lunches; fish sticks, salisbury steak and a chicken patty held little appeal to him. He was pretty sure they wouldn't be very appetizing.

After a few minutes, a boy came up to the opposite end of the table and stood across from him. "Hey, mind if I sit here?"

Callen immediately went on alert as he shrugged and said, "Sure, it's a free country."

"I was in your geometry class earlier. G, isn't it?" the boy said as he sat down and placed his tray on the table.

Callen nodded, saying nothing.

"That was pretty awesome the way you didn't take any crap from Old Penelope Prune Face."

Callen couldn't help but smirk at that. "I tried to get out of her class, but the principal wouldn't go for it."

"She probably won't give you much trouble after today," the boy said. "She's not used to kids standing up to her. Most of them are scared of her."

"Yeah, well, I'm not scared of anybody," Callen said.

The other boy laughed. "I guess that's the way to be, though in my experience everyone's at least a little scared of someone."

"Not me."

"My name's Ed, by the way," the other boy said. "So, that really is your name, G?"

"It really is," Callen stated, waiting for this Ed kid to start giving him the business about his name.

"That's pretty cool. Ed is kind of a dorky name," Ed said. "Better than Edmund though. I don't know what my parents were thinking of when they named me that."

"It's not so bad," Callen said, thinking that he would have given anything to have a real name, one that was really and truly his own, not just a letter which he had no idea what it stood for.

"Well there are definitely worse names, I guess," Ed said with a grin. "Stanley or Horace...Neither of those would thrill me."

"Stan is kind of a bad ass name," Callen said, finally allowing a trace of a smile, sensing that this Ed seemed to be sincere and he didn't think he had anything to worry about with him. "Horace though...not much you can do with that.

"No, I'd say not," Ed said. "What other classes are you in today?"

Callen pulled his schedule from his pocket and looked at his classes. "I have French after lunch and then a study hall." He handed his schedule to Ed. It sounded like an easy afternoon at least. He'd been told that he had an ear for languages and they seemed to come easily to him. He had taken Spanish in the seventh and eighth grades, and had moved onto French in the ninth grade. He was relatively sure he would have no problem catching up as he had been ahead of most of his classmates, even with constantly switching and missing school. He planned to move onto Italian and Latin in his junior year.

"French with Mr. Goldfarb," Ed said. "He's kind of a bore, but he won't give you any trouble. Hey, I've got the same study hall as you. It's with Miss Wilder. She's cool. She doesn't make us sit silently and do our homework the way some of the others do. She's one of the better teachers around this place though I see you have Teegan for history. He's great. I have him too but at a different time than you."

Callen nodded. "Yeah, I really liked him. He seemed like a cool guy."

"Higgins is definitely the worst of the ones on your schedule," Ed said as he handed it back to Callen. "Just make nice with her and you'll be home free. Tomorrow you can sit next to me in her class. She likes me, so maybe you'll get some brownie points by association."

"Okay...that sounds good," Callen said, smiling less tentatively than before.

"We have gym together too on Thursday. Make sure you bring blue gym shorts and a white t-shirt. Those are required. Coach Lewis is okay though he definitely favors the jocks who play on the school teams. Do you play a sport?"

Callen shook his head. He'd never been in one school long enough to even consider such a thing. "I never have."

"I haven't either. I've thought about maybe playing baseball in the spring. Maybe we can both go out for it together. Might be fun."

Callen nodded, but he suddenly began wondering why Ed had latched onto him so quickly. He began feeling paranoid wondering if he was being friendly to him on a dare or something. "So...how long have you been at this school?" he finally asked, staring down at his lunch tray.

Ed laughed. "You figured me out already. I've only been here for six weeks. My family moved to California from Boston. It's pretty different out here, but my dad got a new job so here we are. It's hard starting a new school. I just figured with both of us being new, it might be cool if we got to know each other. Sometimes it's hard to get friendly with kids, especially when they already have their own friends."

Callen nodded. What Ed said was true. He'd certainly experienced more than his share of starting at new schools.

At that moment the bell rang. Ed quickly stood up and picked up his tray. "I'll see you later at study hall, G," he said. He then pointed towards the far exit of the lunch room. "If you go out that way you'll get to your French classroom faster. You probably don't want to be late. Goldfarb is a stickler for punctuality or as he says ponctualite," Ed spoke in an exaggerated French accent and grinned at Callen before he headed off to his next class.

xxxxx

The rest of the day went by quickly and easily, as Callen had predicted. He was way ahead of the others in his French class and he was already liking Ed more and more. The boys spent their study period chatting. Callen mainly deflected any questions about his own home life, not sure if he trusted Ed enough yet to give any information about his past. He usually kept such things to himself. "I'll see you tomorrow, G," Ed said when the bell rang for them to go to afternoon homeroom.

"See ya, Ed."

Callen then headed off to homeroom where he kept to himself and then finally the day was over. He breathed a sigh of relief as he left the school and found Hetty already waiting outside for him, just as she had said she'd be.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Callen," she said as he slid into the front passenger seat and fastened his seat belt. "How was your first day of school?"

"It was okay," Callen said with a shrug as he tossed his backpack onto the back seat of the car.

"Just okay?" she asked as she pulled away from the school.

"I have to have blue gym shorts by Thursday," Callen said, deciding to change the subject. "I need them for gym."

"Well, that's a relatively easy request," Hetty said, smiling at the boy. "Do you have a lot of homework?"

"Not too bad," Callen said, though he suddenly wondered if there had been any geometry homework. He guessed he should have asked Ed. Oh well, it was too late to worry about that now.

"Well then I don't suppose it will hurt you before we make an extra stop before heading home."

Callen shook his head. "No, that's fine."

"Good." Hetty said as she took a side street to turn around from the direction of her home. "So...how was math class today?"

Callen looked at Hetty suspiciously, but he couldn't read anything from her expression. He was suddenly uneasy, wondering if he should be truthful or lie. Finally, he decided to just be honest. After all, he hadn't gotten into any trouble so technically, he hadn't done anything wrong.

"My teacher...is kind of a bi...witch."

"I see and why is that?" Hetty asked, holding back a smile.

"She...she gave me a hard time about my name."

"How so?"

"She refused to call me G or Callen. She said she was going to call me Glenn and I said I wouldn't answer to that name. She said if I wouldn't, that I could go to the principal...so that's what I did." His heart was beating fast as he told Hetty what had happened, but his nerves didn't show at all on his face. He looked calm, cool and collected on the outside.

"Well, thank you for telling me that," Hetty said. "I actually had a call from the principal today and he explained what had happened. He was very much on your side of this matter. I normally wouldn't condone you talking back to a teacher, but I do like that you're not afraid to stand up for yourself if you're being treated unfairly and this is one of those times."

"Really?" Callen asked softly. "I kinda thought...well I figured you'd be mad."

"I'm mad at the teacher, Mr. Callen. She had no right to make your name into such an issue and I'm sorry that she did that to you."

"It's okay," Callen said. "Hopefully she'll lay off me now."

"Yes, hopefully she will," Hetty said. "For now, we'll consider the matter dropped." She was surprised, in a good way, that the boy had told him what had occurred on his own. She considered it to be a good omen for the future. They rode along in silence for the next few minutes until Hetty pulled the car into a parking lot. Callen hadn't been paying much attention to where they were going, but he looked out through the windshield now at a store with a sign that read Mike's Bike Shop. His eyes widened and he gave Hetty an uncertain look. "Come along, Mr. Callen."

Callen followed Hetty into the bike shop, trying to contain his excitement. Was he actually going to get a brand new bike for his very own? He'd wanted one ever since he was a little kid, but of course, no foster parents were going to buy him a bike. He'd learned to ride on other kids' bicycles and had never even dreamed of the possibility of getting his own bike. The only thing better would be a car, but he knew he was quite a long way from that.

"Can I help you?" A man in his 20's asked as he approached them.

"Yes, he would like to get a bicycle."

"Really?" Callen asked, his eyes shining as he looked back at Hetty.

"Come now, Mr. Callen," Hetty said, smiling. "Did you think we came here for me to get a bike? Now take a look around and pick out what you'd like. I know very little about such things."

Callen slowly began to walk through the store, more than a little bit overwhelmed by the different makes, models and colors. Even the most inexpensive of them all looked good to him. Finally, he picked out a very modest-appearing bike with few features and a very low price tag. "This one," he said, pointing it out to Hetty.

Hetty looked at the bike doubtfully. Even with her limited knowledge of such things, she knew he was being very frugal when it came to his choice. She turned to the salesman. "Can you tell me what's popular with young boys these days?"

"Of course," the salesman said with a smile. "This bike is very popular." He led them over to a shiny black bicycle with red and silver trim. "It's a Trek road bike, very well made. We also have several less expensive models which are similar with not as many features."

"Would you like to try this one out, Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked.

"Really?" Callen asked.

Hetty nodded with a smile and the salesman took Callen outside to give it a test ride. It was an awesome bike. Just trying it out was amazing. "It's really cool," he said with a smile when he came back inside.

"We'll take this one," Hetty said.

"Great. We'll get him the proper sized bike and it will be assembled and ready to go by Friday, just in time for the weekend. I'll go get the paperwork."

"Hetty?" Callen said tentatively, after the salesman had gone off. "You don't have to get me this bike. There are lots of cheaper ones that are good too."

"Do you like this one?" Hetty asked.

"Well, yeah, of course, but…"

"No buts, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "I would like to get this bike for you. Call it a late birthday present or whatever you'd like. You can ride it to school. We'll just have to get a proper lock for it to make sure it doesn't get stolen."

"Thank you, Hetty...thank you so much."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Callen." Just seeing the happy look on the boy's face made Hetty know this purchase would be a worthwhile one.

Callen looked at the bike, a smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling as he stroked it's smooth exterior. He had never even dreamed of having his own bike and now, to get one like this, it really was like a dream come true.


	5. Chapter 5

_I know it's been a while since I've done anything with this story. I still plan to add onto it from time to time as I have some other things planned for young Mr. Callen. Thanks to those of you who have been reading this one. I really appreciate it. In any case, I'll try to have each chapter relatively self contained, no cliff hangers or anything like that lol._

xxxxx

On Friday afternoon, Hetty picked up Callen after school to take him to pick up his bike. He was trying to remain cool and collected, but he was very excited. To have such a gift, all to himself, really was a dream come true. The bike was ready to go when they arrived at the bike shop and they were able to exit the store relatively quickly to head home. When they arrived back at Dovecote, Hetty could easily see that Callen was positively chomping at the bit to take the bike out for a spin. "Okay, you can take it out," Hetty told him when they had gotten out of the car. "But be back at 5:30 to get ready for dinner, okay?"

"I will," Callen said, nodding. "And, thank you again, Hetty. I really appreciate the bike." He stopped short of saying he loved it, that would be something a girl would say. In any case, it was by far the nicest thing he had ever owned.

"You're welcome," Hetty said. "Be careful" Callen nodded, a smile on his face, then rode off. Hetty stood in front of the house, watching, until the boy was out of sight.

xxxxx

Callen rode around aimlessly for a while, unsure of where to go, and then he impulsively decided to look for Ed's house. The boys had exchanged addresses and phone numbers the previous day. After asking directions at a couple of places, he was able to find Ed's home. It was a nice house in a modest-appearing neighborhood. Feeling an attack of nerves about arriving at Ed's house unannounced, he almost turned around and left, but then the front door open and Ed came outside. "Hey G! I didn't expect to see you here today," he said running up to him. "Wow...that's your new bike? That is amazing. Can I take it for a spin?"

Callen nodded as he got off the bike and handed it over to his friend. Ed carefully got on the bike then rode off. Callen got a little bit nervous when his friend rode down a side street and out of sight, but a few minutes later, Ed rode up behind him and stopped, having taken the bike around the block. "Very cool," he said, getting off the bike and pushing it back towards Callen. "You're really lucky to have that. I hope you got a good lock for it if you're going to ride it to school. You need to be careful with it."

"I did," Callen said, nodding. Hetty had insisted on getting the most expensive lock the bike store carried.

"Want to come inside? You can meet my mom and we can hang out in my room for a while."

"Uh… I don't know."

Ed laughed. "My mom doesn't bite, G. She's pretty nice as far as moms go. Come on. We can put your bike in the garage."

"Okay…" Unable to think of a reason why he couldn't go inside, Callen put his bike in Ed's garage and watched as the other boy closed the door. They then went inside Ed's house.

"Hey mom!" Ed called out as they went through the front door entranceway. "G is here!"

Ed's mom appeared and smiled as she approached the boys. "Well, hello G," she said, a friendly smile on her face. "Ed has talked so much about you. I'm so glad you could visit."

"Thank you," Callen said shyly as he brushed his hair back away from his eyes. "It's nice to meet you."

"Can we have brownies?" Ed asked his mother as he turned towards Callen. "My mom makes the best brownies."

"One brownie," Ed's mom said. "It's getting close to dinner."

"Thanks mom!" Ed grabbed a brownie then held the plate out to Callen who also took one, then the two boys went off to Ed's room. Once there, Callen looked around with interest. It was very different from his own room. The walls were covered with posters and sports pennants. There was a desk with a clutter of paper on top and a television on a stand with a small stereo system underneath.

"This is a cool room," Callen said, admiring it. He couldn't help but notice that there weren't any books, except for some sports magazines and comic books scattered on the rug. He wondered if Ed would think he was some kind of a dork if he knew how much Callen liked books.

"You want to play Donkey Kong?"

"What?" Callen asked, looking at the other boy blankly.

"You've never played?" Ed asked. "I'll show you. It's really cool." He proceeded to show Callen the game on his game system and the two boys soon were totally immersed in playing the game, totally losing track of the time.

"Ed? It's time for dinner!" his mom called.

"You want to stay?" Ed asked, as he turned off the game system. "I'm sure my mom won't mind. My dad is working late tonight."

"No, I probably ought to get going," Callen said. "What time is it anyway?"

Ed looked at his watch. "Almost 6."

Callen's eyes widened and he could feel his heartbeat speeding up. That wasn't good. "Oh boy. I was supposed to be home by now. I'd better hurry."

Ed walked him to the front door. "Thanks for coming over."

"Tell your mom thanks for having me. I'll see you on Monday."

"Bye G, have a good weekend."

"You too."

Callen hurried toward the garage and got on his bike. The only problem was it was already starting to get dark and he was totally disoriented.

This really wasn't good at all.

xxxxx

The doorbell rang at 6:15 and Hetty breathed a sigh of relief as she walked to the front door. Perhaps the boy had misplaced his key although she had thought he would be more careful. In any case, at least he was home. That was the important thing. She opened the door, but instead of seeing Callen, she saw an old friend of hers, Bartholomew Richards. "Bartholomew," she said. "How nice to see you."

"Surely you haven't forgotten my dinner invitation, Henrietta," Bartholomew said.

"No, of course not," Hetty said, although that was indeed what had happened. She had invited him to dinner over three weeks ago and it had totally slipped her mind. "You're just a bit early."

"You know my feelings on punctuality," Bartholomew said as Hetty gestured for him to enter her home. "I never was one to tolerate lateness."

Hetty sighed, glad that she had made plenty of chicken for dinner, but now she was more worried than ever about where her young charge could be. "Can I get you a drink?" she asked as he followed her into the living room.

"Perhaps some sparkling water," Bartholomew said. Hetty nodded distractedly and went to get him the drink. She gave it to him and took a seat by Bartholomew.

"Is something wrong, Henrietta?" Bartholomew asked after a long silence. "I have to say, you're not exactly your usual engaging self this evening."

"I'm sorry, I suppose I'm not," Hetty said. "There's been rather a big change in my life since the last time we spoke. I've taken in a young boy."

Bartholomew's eyes widened upon hearing this news. "Really? Hmmm… I wouldn't have taken you for the motherly type. Where is this tot?"

Hetty laughed. "He's not exactly a tot. He's an older boy, 15 to be exact."

"15?" Bartholomew couldn't hide the disgust on his face. "Why on earth would you take in a 15-year-old? I can assure you, he'll be nothing but trouble. You mark my words, Henrietta."

"Oh stop it," Hetty said with a forced laugh. "He's fine."

"So he's a good boy? He's never been in trouble?" Bartholomew asked.

Hetty said nothing and Bart nodded knowingly. "Just as I thought. Why else would you be taking in someone of that age? It's because no one else wanted him."

"Stop it. That's not true at all. He's just had a rough life. He's a victim of circumstances, none of which were his fault."

She heard the front door close and quickly got to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."

She hurried to the front door where she found a disheveled and downcast-appearing boy waiting for her. "Where have you been, Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked, fighting to keep her tone even.

"I'm really sorry, Hetty. I...I stopped at a friend's house and we lost track of time and then I got kind of lost and I know I'm really late and I understand if you take my bike away from me," Callen finished breathlessly.

"We'll discuss this later," Hetty said quietly. "For now, we have a guest for dinner so go wash up and change your shirt, then come down to meet him."

Callen gave her a long look but then silently nodded and headed to the staircase to go to his room.

xxxxx

A few minutes later, Callen came into the living room with a clean shirt and his hair neatly combed.

"Mr. Callen, this is Bartholomew Richards, an old friend of mine."

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Callen said politely as he extended his hand.

Bart shook the boy's hand and looked at him speculatively. "What's your first name, boy?"

"It's G."

"Gee?" Bartholomew looked at Hetty questioningly.

"It's true," she verified.

"What kind of a name is that for a boy?"

" _ **My**_ name," Callen stated narrowing his eyes at this man. He already didn't like him. He really hoped this wasn't Hetty's boyfriend.

"Dinner is ready," Hetty said quickly, trying to smooth things over. "Come along." She went off to the kitchen to get the food and Callen hurried after her to help.

"Hetty, I really am sorry," he said, trying to start up the conversation once again.

"Hush, Mr. Callen," Hetty said, not unkindly. "I told you, we'll talk about it later. Surely you must be hungry."

Callen shrugged as he took the platter of chicken from her and brought it out into the dining room, trying to avoid the gaze of Hetty's friend who was staring at him like he was an insect under a microscope.

The rest of the food was brought out and the three settled down to eat their dinner. They ate quietly for a few minutes before Bartholomew directed his attention to Callen. "So, are you a good student, G?"

"I do okay," Callen said, wishing this guy would just talk to Hetty and ignore him.

"What does that mean, okay? C's are okay. Do you get C's?"

"No, I don't get C's" Callen said, barely controlling his urge to glare at the man. "I mostly get A's."

"Mostly? So not all A's?"

"Mostly A's are fine," Hetty said. "He does very well in school which is impressive as he's moved around a lot."

"Ah yes...I suppose that is impressive given your background."

Callen ignored him, concentrating on the food on his plate. Hetty was a very good cook. He ate better here than just about anywhere else he had been before. His background. Who the hell did this jerk think he was anyhow? He was probably born with a silver spoon in his mouth and diamonds up his ass. Callen couldn't help smirking at that mental image.

"Something funny?" Bartholomew asked him, looking very much unamused.

"Nothing you would appreciate, sir."

"How do you know? Perhaps you should share."

Callen was tempted, just to see the look on this old stick in the mud's face, but he didn't want to disappoint Hetty. Still, he didn't know how she could be friends with this guy. "Just thinking about the video game I played at my friend's house."

"Video games?" Bartholomew said with a look of distaste. "That's a waste of time. Boys should be playing sports outside not inside staring at a screen."

"We might play baseball in the spring," Callen defended himself. Hetty gave him a surprised look, that was the first she had heard of him wanting to play baseball.

"Football is a real man's sport," Bartholomew said, "tackling and hitting your opponent. Baseball is for pansies."

Callen sighed. He was tired and didn't really feel like debating with this guy. Hetty looked at him thoughtfully. "Mr. Callen, if you've finished your dinner, why don't you go get yourself some ice cream and take it up to your room so that Bartholomew and I can talk alone. I don't want to bore you."

"Thank you, Hetty." Callen practically knocked over his chair in his eagerness to escape the dining room. "Nice to meet you," he said to Bart before bolting from the room. He really hoped he never had to see that guy again.

xxxxx

"Was that really necessary?" Hetty asked after Callen was safely out of earshot.

"Was what necessary?" Bartholomew asked with an innocent smile. "Just getting to know the boy. After all, he's important to you, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is important to me," Hetty stated, "and I don't appreciate you putting him down. His grades are excellent and what was all this nonsense about baseball? There's nothing wrong with baseball. In all honesty, I'd rather he play that than football. Less chance of him getting hurt."

"Baseball isn't going to toughen him up properly. That's what a boy needs. Coddling him won't do him any favors."

Hetty bristled at his words. "Trust me, he is plenty tough enough and has gone through more than his share of grief during his life. I want to make things better for him, not add onto his woes."

Bartholomew shook his head sadly. "I never took you for being soft, Henrietta, but that's what this boy has done with you. In any case, have your fun. I'll give you a call sometime soon. I have some business matters I'd like to discuss with you. And please, no need to show me out. I know the way. Good night."

"Good night," Hetty responded. She sighed in relief after Bartholomew left the house. He seemed to be changing recently. She really was in no hurry at all to see him again any time soon. Hopefully, he would forget this call of his. She was pretty sure she'd have no interest in having any business dealings with him.

xxxxx

Callen headed upstairs with a big bowl of ice cream then he stretched out on his bed and turned on some music to listen to. He couldn't say he was very impressed with Hetty's choice of friends. He slowly started to eat his ice cream as he looked around his room. It was very plain compared to Ed's room, but he actually liked it this way. Ed's room was nice. It just wasn't for him. He didn't feel the need for a lot of things. Maybe it was because he'd never had them, he wasn't quite sure. He sighed as he thought over the events of the day. School had been fine and getting the bike had been great. Even though he'd had a good time at Ed's house, he realized it hadn't been one of his better ideas. He wondered what his punishment was going to be. Hetty taking the bike away was a given, but he wondered if she would just give up on him altogether. That Bartholomew guy hadn't liked him, for sure. He was probably downstairs right now telling Hetty to send him back into the system. He started absently swirling the ice cream around with his spoon, not really hungry for it any more. He put the bowl on his nightstand and considered packing up his things, his anxiety beginning to get the better of him. Finally, about an hour later, there was a knock on his door and Hetty entered his room.

"Didn't you like the ice cream?" Hetty asked, eying the bowl which was now filled with gooey liquid.

"It's fine," Callen replied. "Just wasn't hungry anymore."

"I see." Hetty took a seat on the bed beside him. "So...what happened today?"

"I went to my friend Ed's house. We started playing with his video game system and lost track of time."

"I was worried about you. A phone call would have been the considerate thing to do."

"I…" Callen considered what she said and nodded. "You're right. I just didn't think. I just wanted to hurry home but I wasn't sure how to get back here…" he trailed off with a sigh. "I really am sorry."

"No harm done," Hetty said. "In the future though, if you're going to be late, I would like a telephone call. I think it would save a lot of anxiety for both of us."

"In the future?" Callen asked. "So...I can stay?"

Hetty gave Callen a sad look. "Is that what you thought? That I would send you back over you being late?"

Callen shrugged then nodded, his head bowed. "I guess so…"

"We both have a lot to learn about each other. For now, why don't you get some sleep. We'll just chalk this up to a bad day and start again tomorrow, okay?"

Callen looked back at Hetty, a faint smile on his lips as he nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Hetty."

"You're welcome, Mr. Callen." She stood up and took the bowl from his nightstand. "Good night, dear."

"Good night, Hetty." Callen watched as Hetty left his room and closed the door behind her. He then got ready for bed. After he had changed, he slipped between the covers and closed his eyes. He was much calmer now and as he fell asleep, the last thing he thought was maybe things really were turning around for him.


End file.
